Three Strikes and You're
by Live-Like-its-heaven-on-earth
Summary: CubaxEngland- Cuba suggests England and he play a month long game, England hasn't got a clue what he's agreed too...
1. Let the Games begin!

**Let the Games Begin!**

_So! This is CubaxEngland, and I wouldn't even have thought of such a couple if it wasn't for Hazel-Beka and her amazing fanfic Accented Spanish and Sugar (Which is amazing and people should READ)! But, yes and since I've read it I just have been wanting to write my own fanfic of the two together and thought about it- thus this came to be. So, read, review, fav, alert and hopefully enjoy! This is only the beginning and thus greatly short it shall get longer!_

Cuba lay in his bed. Alone… he felt absolutely awful! His little game had ended, it had ended… sure he had managed to piss America off, but… now he was left on his own. Wanting more, but left with nothing…

He groaned as he remembered how his tea and rained filled kisses felt, and how shocked he was to taste salt when his tongue dove into the Brit's mouth. How his olive skinned hands looked so much darker as he dragged them along the Brit's pale, almost white skin. How the Brit's messy straw like hair actually had a silky touch to them, and would easily slip through his fingers.

Cuba threw a hand over his eyes as he let a choked out moan escape him. He felt all his blood quickly flood to one area as he remembered what the Brit's flushed face looked like as he panted and moaned for more. As his emerald eyes begged for more. The shivers of delight that ran up his spine as the Brit's fingers pulled his hair out of its ponytail only for it to stick to the back and the neck of the said Cuban.

Cuba groaned again, he wasn't planning on turning up to the meeting that day; he had lost the game and lost the right to have his fun with the British Nation, and he just didn't think he was quite ready to face him yet… Cuba moaned and turned ignoring his lower problem, if he knew the British Nation was going to affect him this much he wouldn't have even suggested playing that idiotic game… or at least changed some of the rules…

If he had a table nearby he would've hit his head a few times in the hopes of knocking a bit of sense into his self, sadly there weren't any nearby. Cuba groaned again, if only he had never noticed the way America looked at England… then he wouldn't have even tried talking to the British Nation (beforehand they only really talked if it was absolutely necessary).

Cuba squeezed his eyes shut… their little game had started at the last World meeting. And Cuba remembered exactly how their game had started…

Cuba knew of England and America's 'Special' relationship, he was pretty sure everyone did seeing how much America would gloat about it and England would just get annoyed and hit his old charge for his obvious suggestions, which the Brit would heavily deny. It was also a well known fact that America deeply cared for his old Father-figure in a not too platonic way.

And it was, because of these facts that Cuba found his self walking over to England after another disruptive World meeting. Throwing his arm over the Brit's shoulder he grinned down at the man who seemed to want to head back to his own country as quickly as possible.

"England," Cuba grinned down at the other Nation, letting all his white teeth be clearly seen. England raised an eyebrow at the close contact.

"Cuba." He stated evenly.

They stayed like for a while, England waited for the deeply tanned man to continue and when he noticed he wasn't going to, he internally groaned.

"Was there something you wanted?" The Brit asked, he'd try and remain civil… even if it killed him.

"Why of course there was England!" Cuba gave a full hearted laugh before pulling England along with him so they were continuing along the path England had just been walking.

"And what would that be?" England questioned keeping in step with the grinning Nation; sending a sceptical glance over at the other.

"Would you like to play a game?" England stopped and turned to look at the other Nation, who looked absolutely serious.

"Oh… And what would this game be?"

"Just a little game I made up," Cuba's grin stretched even further- if that was possible. "Would you like to know the rules?"

"This is some ploy to get back at America isn't it?" England stated, wondering if it would be wise to take Cuba's arms off his shoulders.

"Oh you Brits never let _anything_ pass you, do you?" Though, his grin never faltered. "But it may _not_ get back at America, it's a game filled with luck and chance!"

"Pray do tell," England sarcastically stated with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, basically…" Cuba pulled the other Nation closer ever so slightly. "We start off a secret relationship," Cuba put a finger to the Brits mouth quickly so he couldn't protest. "Let me finish before you start yelling and complaining! So basically it's for a month, and you have to try and get three people to find out, but they have to walk in and be shocked you can't just tell them, whereas I have to try and not let anyone find out throughout the course of a month. If you manage to get me my three strikes then you'll get anything out of me, and if I manage to survive the month you do anything I want you too, deal?"

"And why would you risk doing anything I say," the Brit started saying, pulling back slightly so his lips only lightly brushed against Cuba's finger. "Because, by what you're saying there's a higher chance of you losing to me."

"True, and that's where America comes in. If I do lose I have the satisfaction of knowing he's pissed off no matter what you make me do!" He grinned.

"Well, that seems all well and all, but it only seems to benefit you, what do I get if I lose?" The Brit questioned, generally curious.

"Ummm…" The Cuban pulled away, and put a finger to his chin before his usual grin found its way back. "Well, England you'd obviously get a good fuck in wouldn't you?"

The Brit's eyes narrowed. Cuba's grin only brightened. They stayed like that for a bit.

"Fine I'll play your stupid game!" The Brit yelled, pushing Cuba away, before walking away with every intention of escaping back to his country. "And I'll win your damned game I don't need some grinning idiot for a 'good fuck'!"

"That's the spirit England!" He cheered after him. "I'll send you extra detail later!"

And Cuba walked off his grin never leaving his face. Now to win this AND make America think they were in a serious relationship!


	2. It's a date!

**It's a date!**

Cuba was at his desk with his legs stretched out against the desk in question; leaning back on his chair with the last document he needed to sort out in hand. The people around him were more than a little freaked out seeing as the Cuban was the kind of person who would escape and roam the streets for a few weeks before finishing off his work. But, Cuba couldn't help but want to finish off all his work in the hopes of getting a day or two off without being bugged and annoyed by anyone else.

A glance at the clock on the wall told him his guest should be arriving any second (it was 4pm, and with all the time differences and the time it would take to get over to Cuba from England and given the short notice, he should be roughly right). And Cuba found that he was right as when he had literally found his self finishing off with the last document a greatly annoyed and red faced Brit burst into Cuba's office.

"I…" The man in question looked exhausted and tired and was trying to get his breath back quickly; Cuba couldn't blame him as the Brit as he had probably rushed over the second he had gotten Cuba's e-mail. "Absolutely… hate you!"

Cuba grinned and pushed a glass of water over his desk for the Brit, as England collapsed into the seat opposite him. He took the glass and gulped it down gratefully without stopping for breath, he sighed in relief when he put the glass back onto the table- empty. Cuba's grin never faltered.

"Why did you bloody well send me a list like that?" The Brit questioned once he got his breath back.

"I told you I'd send you extra details later!" The Brit scoffed which only seemed to enhance the cheeky glint in Cuba's eyes.

"Details of this phony relationship and game, not detailed listings of ways to have sex," The Brit shook his head. "I've been around longer than you anyway and been with that frog for all these years; don't you think I know more than you?"

"Well, then you'll have to teach me a few things won't you?" The grin ever so slightly turning into a smirk, that England wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the fact that Cuba had learnt to grin a smirk from Spain, and England was plenty used to Spain's grinning smirks after all the years they had been at war.

"I'm not having sex with you, Cuba," The Brit rolled his eyes ever so slightly annoyed at Cuba's brash and overly confidence.

"Then why are you here England?" Cuba stood up stretching as he did and walked so he was in front of the Brit and the desk wasn't. "Are you sure you didn't get horny from reading my suggestions?"

"I'm sure, Cuba, I'm sure," The Brit glared up ever so slightly as the Cuban pulled him out of his seat.

"So you came all the way here to tell me off for the e-mail? I find that highly unbelievable!" he laughed, trying to rile the Brit up.

"I believe YOU'RE the one who asked ME to reply, and the e-mails bounced back, you purposely turned your phone off, busied yourself in work so no one would put me through to you and thus I had to resort to TRAVELING ten hours to get here!" The Brit was definitely not amused, especially as Cuba started leading him out of the building and started pulling the Nation around with him. "So, why did you drag me all the way to your country?"

"I didn't drag you!" Cuba tried to feign hurt, but failed when he started snickering. "But, if you must know you're here for a date!"

"A date?" The scepticism was visibly dripping from the words, and Cuba nodded enthusiastically. "So I travelled ten hours to go on a date?"

"How else are we going to play our parts in this phony relationship as you so call it?" Cuba beamed; he was enjoying his self far too much no matter how cynical the other Island Nation was being.

"Seeing as you're the one who wants this _date,_ why didn't YOU come to my country?" The Brit sighed, tired but seemed to succumb to his fate.

"Because England, why would I head over to your rain filled and Cold County when we can have fun in my warm and bright Country?" The Caribbean Nation led the Brit out, who seemed to have given up in the argument (After all Cuba wasn't his long time rival France and those arguments couldn't be finished until the Brit had won)… of course that was until Cuba mentioned how there was higher chance of Cuba winning if they stayed in his country (wasn't like he had to see other Nations as much as England did, seeing as the Brit was a part of the E.U. and was the founder of so many other groups of Nations).

Cuba had dragged England across his Capital; treated him to meal and now as England started to yawn every other sentence they shared (some pleasantries, some odd flirts that the Brit definitely didn't appreciate but he did turn a wonderful shade of red, sometimes Cuba just commenting on something around them seeing as it was his Capital and a few insults) Cuba thought he'd drag the Brit to the hotel he'd be staying at; Cuba had offered to let him stay at his house, but the Brit politely declined (out of good nature or fear Cuba would do something to him throughout the night, Cuba wasn't all that sure).

Cuba tugged the tired Brit down the now dark streets with him, the stars the only thing really lightly up the dark sky. Cuba's hand holding the Brit's, Cuba had mockingly taken the Brit's hand; made England freak and start yelling. But Cuba found his self enjoying England's hand within his, not usually having the pleasure of walking down streets and holding a "dates" hand, seeing as most Nation relationships were strictly for their benefits and not their enjoyment.

"So how did you enjoy our date?" Cuba questioned, interrupting whatever the Brit had been about to say- the hotel was coming up and Cuba wanted to hear the Brit say he at least enjoyed it.

"Is this not including the fact I was forced on our 'date' after just getting off a ten hour flight and then being dragged around Havana?" The Brit sarcastically questioned now spotting the building that was to be his hotel for the next couple of days (the Cuban Nation had convinced him to call his boss and ask for a few days off for a well deserved holiday).

"You know you enjoy having dates after long flight journeys," Cuba grinned back at him; the Brit rolled his eyes.

"Well… it was… ok…"

"Only ok?" Cuba raised a brow in questioned.

"Seeing as it hasn't ended yet, it COULD get worse," the Brit threatened glaring slightly at the Cuban in front of him.

"Ok's good! But I'll make you say it's amazing by the end of these few days!" He cheered happily not caring about anyone around them or anything really from what his Grin told.

Cuba stopped in front of the hotel. It was rather good, but Cuba had thought England would've gone to a five-star place or something generally really posh, not an old building of a hotel. Sure it was a good hotel, but he thought the Brit would've gone somewhere more extravagant and a place that cost more money.

"I thought that this was all a ploy to get on America's nerves, so why the dates?" The Brit questioned, generally curious.

"I can have some fun with our phoney relationship before I annoy America, you know," Cuba shook his head, not to mention the fact that he had got a date out of the Brit and America hadn't would greatly anger the so-called hero.

"Well, anyways I'll see you tomorrow," the Brit yawned and started to walk away, only to find his self being pulled back since Cuba hadn't let go of his hand and was tugging on it.

"Ah, you can't end a date without a good-bye kiss England," he grinned over at the Brit.

"I'm not kissing you." He stated it and left no room for question; he wasn't no matter what the Cuban man did.

"You will." He said it with such confidence that it seemed to overshadow the words England had just said, but before the Brit could say anything to contradict him he pulled England's hands to his mouth and lightly kissed the knuckles of his hand.

"But not today…"

_So Chapter two… that was so fun to write, but so hard to not switch into England's POV, cause I'm used to switching between POV's in stories, but because this is all sort of Cuba's memories we're not allowed to know exactly what England thinks unless he SAYS something and even then he could be lying (most likely is cause he's England). But yes thank you for all the lovely reviews I would love to reply to each of you and tell you how much I love you for leaving a comment, but I sort of always get shy with trying to write something back in case I accidently insult someone (and even though it would be a thank you for reviewing kind of thing I'm sure I'd find a way to accidently insult SOMEONE), so I'll just say it here you guys are amazing, also thank you for the people who are reading, alerting and fav-ing._

_But yes, I'm just curious as to who people think will give Cuba his three strikes (assuming he gets them for all you know he could change some rules as the game goes along) and also what you think Cuba will make England do if he wins (I'm saying that because for all you know there could be plot twists or the beginning of the last chapter was a lie to throw you off the scent) or what England will make Cuba do. Just curious to see what imaginative things people can come up with (of course you don't have to answer)._

_Ok, I hope you people enjoyed this chapter and all the ones to come! And reviews are always welcome! Until next time!_


	3. Phones aren't allowed!

**Phones aren't allowed!**

Cuba had woken up early, set on enjoying a day at the beach and planning on trying to keep his British date a bright red the whole time. It was so amusing how red the Brit could go and Cuba had found him to actually be rather good company… well as long as you didn't mind people being cynical, which luckily for Cuba he didn't, he actually enjoyed it to some extent finding it fun how the Brit would insult and complain about everything but go through with whatever it was he was told to do… It intrigued Cuba, if he was being totally honest.

So, Cuba found his self bursting into the hotel and walking up to England's room (there wasn't any point in asking what room his was, it was his country he knew everything that went on within it including where his date was staying). He banged on the door, loudly hoping England would answer quickly and he thought he would after all it was early morning and Cuba was banging loudly on the door in the middle of a hotel lobby; if he learnt one thing about the Brit yesterday it was that the man hated making scenes; would do anything to not gain the attention of people around them.

Like he predicted England opened the door quickly, and threw Cuba in, though he looked absolutely exhausted to do such a thing; though Cuba was wide awake he couldn't blame the man, it was 6 in the morning and he had been on a plane yesterday. Though, England didn't seem to know what the time was, even though if the man looked outside it would be obviously that it was early, seeing how dark it was out there.

No, the Brit seemed more determined to get the sleep out of his eyes. The Brit walked back into his hotel room with Cuba following; being polite as to not rush the Brit too much, but eager to throw the plastic bag he had with at the blonde.

"So what are we doing today you idiotic Cuban?" England managed to mutter between a few yawns.

"Ah, you wound me England, am I so bad as to need to be insulted?" Cuba jokingly questioned his grin joyful.

"Right…" The Brit drawled before muttering something about feeling sorry for idiots, but Cuba just ignored him pushing the Brit into a chair, with a few weak protests being brought up by the Brit in question.

"Seeing as you're in my country I'll make you some food!" the Cuban cheered moving over to work in the kitchen before he heard England mutter about only wanting some tea; had wasn't hungry.

"You sure you don't want an amazing Cuban breakfast?" He got a grunt in return and Cuba went to making the Brit his drink.

After a few moments of silence, with Cuba busying his self into making the Brit his drink, while England groggily woke his self up. Moving to sit opposite the Brit he slid the drink across the table. He grinned as England thanked him and took a sip, only to glare at the grinning Nation opposite him.

"This is coffee," the Brit managed to ground out, after reluctantly drinking the awful drink.

"Yep!" Cuba cheered. "Tea wouldn't wake you up so I thought I'd use coffee, and look you're already speaking and wide awake; you've only had a sip!" And before England could attack him with the offensive coffee he handed the bag he had with him over. "There's a change of clothes in there, because I'm assuming you've only got what you're wearing right now."

The said Brit stomping off to another room to change; Cuba took the coffee and finished it off- no need to let it go to waste… and he didn't want to be attacked by scalding hot coffee once England saw what clothes Cuba had got for him.

A few minutes later England came back into the room, looking flushed with anger, embarrassment and annoyance, while Cuba leaned on the palm of his hand admiring his work. He had handed England a pair of plain shorts, sandals that wrapped up passed his ankles and a sleeveless top with I heart Cuba; the heart being formed into the Cuban flag.

"I hate you…" the embarrassed Brit, stated as Cuba walked over, and took his hand, his grin larger than before.

"Your top says otherwise!" He cheered dragging the other Nation with him; it was going to be a fun day.

It didn't take too long to get to the beach, seeing as the hotel wasn't too far away; by the time they had got there the sun was up and people had started to move about; some claiming spots on the beach to relax for the day and others slowly getting ready for work. Cuba enjoyed these moments of the day when everything wasn't too busy, but was busy enough to have people moving all over the place, when his people were waking up and leaving their dreams; were generally relaxed and didn't have a reason to be stressed yet. He also enjoyed the feeling of the sun starting to shine and warm up his land.

"So what exactly have you planned for today?" The Brit questioned after a while of wondering mindlessly.

"Well, I thought we should enjoy the beach and get you a tan, you're so ghostly pale England!" Cuba had to hold back a laugh as he saw the Brit grit his teeth from saying something obviously offensive.

"Don't you think it would be obvious that I haven't been in my own country if I turn up to the next World meeting with a tan?" the Brit questioned absentmindedly as he looked around, not really having had the chance to see the beaches of Havana since his pirating days, and they had obviously changed since them.

"I thought you were planning to stay a few days not till the end of the week?" Cuba questioned, for once actually keeping count of the days till the next meeting, seeing as how it was being held at his friend's place this time around; Canada was greatly excited believing he wouldn't be invisible if the meeting was held in his own country; England had planned to leave way before then probably in the hopes of being able to get ready and catch up with the work he missed… and probably to escape the Cuban, but Cuba was going to ignore that suggestion.

"Yes, but for someone as ghostly pale, as you so kindly put it, as I am I'd keep the tan for at least a month before it fades away!" He snapped clearly not pleased by the prospect.

"Anyways England," the Cuban Nation continued as though he hadn't heard the comment. "Don't you want people to find out, so you can win quicker and end our phony relationship… unless of course-"

"No, I don't enjoy our phony relationship at all. So far all I've gotten is a headache." The Brit interrupted before Cuba could finish of his sentence.

"And a T-shirt!" Cuba grinned, while England rolled his eyes.

He opened his mouth about to retort that he wasn't going to keep the T-Shirt, when he froze as a tune by Queen started playing. He quickly took his phone out and was about to answer before Cuba snatched it away.

"Ah, ah, ah, you're on a date meaning you're not allowed to take phone calls!" The Cuban turned the Brit's phone off, before pocketing it, grinning over at the other who didn't look amused.

"Oh and what if something terrible happened to my country?" England questioned, very much un-amused.

"Then you would've felt it already," Cuba pointed out starting to pull England along with him onto the actual sand now, he was going to make England enjoy his self whether the Brit did so willingly or not.

"It might've not been directly linked to me though," the Brit tried to protest; only to get Cuba to stop and turn to him; his grin seemed to have grown.

"England, England, England, you need to calm down, and cool off, it was probably nothing…" Cuba put his arm the Brits shoulders; leaned them forward slightly. "Lucky we're at the beach isn't it?"

And before England could retort he found his self being pushed forward as Cuba moved back slightly so he couldn't be clung to; stop the Brit falling forward. The Brit in question did fall forward after failing at trying to get his balance back; fell into the water with a resounding splash.

After a few seconds England found his self glaring up at the offered hand the grinning Cuba was offering him, his blonde hair plastered to his face; his clothes stuck to him.

"Need a hand there, England?" In answer he got water splashed at his face; the Brit pull his self out of the water.

"I need to dry off…" The Brit stated, grimacing as he looked down at the clothes sticking to his body- wet clothing… it never felt nice.

"Aren't you lucky I planned for us to stay at the beach all day?" He questioned, taking the Brits hand again; dragging him over to an empty spot, the city life starting to fully circulate now; the beach was beginning to fill up.

The Brit didn't say anything, just sat down and leaned back on his arms, hoping to dry off quickly. Cuba lay down next to him and sprawled out, enjoying the rays that shone against his skin and his land; the gentle ocean breeze that blew his hair to one side- he generally loved his country.

Looking over at England, he noticed the man had his eyes closed and was enjoying the rays and breeze; Cuba guessed he probably should have realised England would after all he had been a pirate as Spain reminded him every other day when he was younger. And although the man looked calm, Cuba was pretty sure he was annoyed over the phone incident and then pushing him into the water…

He grinned as he thought of a way to make-up for it. Getting up and promising to back in a second he went off to get his plan; returned a few seconds later with some vanilla ice-cream; passed it to the Brit, who raised a brow in question.

"Ice-cream is the best way to say sorry!" Cuba cheered.

"Oh, and what are you saying sorry for?" The Brit questioned.

"Well… I would say the phone, but I'm not sorry for that, imagining if it was an annoyed American who was phoning is too funny… and I'd get greatly bored if you were to ignore me on our date, dates need good communication skills…" Cuba stopped speaking when he saw the look England was giving him before getting back on topic. "So it's a sorry for making you look like a drowned cat."

The Brit flushed.

"I didn't look like a drowned cat!" He yelled in defence. "I used to be a pirate and I'm an Island Nation like you, I'm plenty used to the sea!"

"You still looked like one!" Cuba grinned and flicked some of England's hair out of his eyes. "With the hair going flat against your face and the un-amused scowl, I'd definitely compare you to a grouchy drowned cat!"

The Brit went to protest, then shook his head; went to his ice-cream before it started melting and would be wasted on his hands. He mumbled a grateful thanks and went back to enjoying the beach life, now with the extra added delight of ice-cream.

Cuba grinned, as he saw a slight blush cross the Brit's face; joined him in watching his city. They spent the rest of the day like that just generally relaxed, with Cuba teasing the other every now and then, with the Brit arguing back and throwing insults Cuba's way.

When everything finally started getting darker, Cuba dragged England back to his hotel; kissing the palm of the flushed Brit's hand and keeping eye contact hoping to embarrass the Brit even more (which it did). He bid his farewell to England and promised to give him his phone back after tomorrows date and no sooner.

As Cuba reached the edge of the corner he looked back, to see the Brit entering his hotel shaking his head as though not knowing what to think of Cuba's actions; the Caribbean Nation found his self grinning as he thought of his earlier statement. The Brit was most definitely interesting… a little difficult to understand, but then Cuba thought that just made him all the more interesting…

_And there we have the third chapter! And I was panicking about this chapter, because for some unexplainable reason I always fail at writing the third chapters of stories, when I get passed them I'm fine, but it's always the annoying third chapter that gets me! But after a few paragraphs of this chapter I was whizzing away; rather enjoying it! Well, I hope you enjoy… I don't believe I have anything else to say right now… so until next chapter peoples!_


	4. Don't look now!

**Don't look now!**

He would not look… he wouldn't! But, he wanted too! He really, really, _really_ wanted to! But Cuba would refrain… he wasn't that cruel… He could be though…

He sighed, taking his hair down, needing some sleep after the exhausting day he had just been through, he'd admit England was hilarious and his responses would never cease to amaze him, but even Cuba was exhausted from staying at the beach under the strong sun rays as long as he had, and he had to avoid some people from his Government after leaving England (if they were starting to expect him to always get his work done early, they really didn't know him as well as they should).

Stripping down to barely anything he relaxed onto his bed, planning nothing more than to shut his eyes tight and not wake up until the next morning where he would then have the last possible date he could have with England while the Brit was in his country. As he said that's what he'd planned, but as his head hit the pillows he found his self wide awake and staring at the boringly pale ceiling…

"Damn it all…" He muttered to his self, switching from language to language to say random swear words. He felt exhausted but sleep wouldn't overcome him, turning slightly he glared at his pocket where the object that was making him think so much was.

Sighing he ran a hand through his hair. England wouldn't realise if he had a look would he? It wasn't like he was going to get caught… he was only curious damn it all!

Taking out the object he glared at it. An I-phone… he didn't even believe England would've picked such a complicated phone, he thought the man would've had a simple one that was only useful for calls, but the Brit proved him wrong with his high tech and new I-phone! And where he felt he should be impressed he felt absolutely annoyed. What did the Brit need an I-phone for? What would be on if he opened it up? Damn it all!

He put the phone on the side somewhere. He wouldn't look damn it! He wasn't some idiot like America who would most likely jump on the opportunity, he'd respect others personal belongings. But why did it have to be so damn hard to resist temptation?

Cuba found his self awakening slightly later than he had planned… Ok, that was an understatement, it had gone noon. He glared at the phone for that.

"This is your entire fault stupid phone!" He grumbled, getting ready to meet England was harder than usual with the lack of sleep; wanting to look at that stupid phone was annoying him- but he wouldn't be any later than he already was. Grabbing a change of clothes for the Brit, he headed to the hotel.

When he entered he was greeted by an amused looking Brit. England spread across the couch in his hotel room, a book in hand (apparently the blonde always carried some sort of literature around with him just in case) and an empty plate of food on the side, wearing the clothes from yesterday (Cuba could only guess the entertaining expression spread across the Brit's face when he realised he'd grudgingly have to wear the shirt for a bit longer).

"Took your time today Cuba?" The Brit asked amusement very evident in the tone of his voice; Cuba couldn't quite stop the yawn that escapes.

"Overslept," Cuba muttered rubbing his face and resisting the urge to add a childish lemme' alone to the end of the sentence.

England shook his head, stretching as he stood up and put the book to the side. And before the man got a word in edge ways had another bag of clothes thrown at him.

"Don't worry there's nothing declaring your undying love for me today!" Cuba grinned, which once again was rewarded with a shake of the head as the blonde went to try the clothes on away from prying eyes… though it wasn't as though the Cuban would've stared if he changed out here… maybe…

The Brit walked back in with a white no sleeved t-shirt with a high collar, and tight jeans with sentences spread all across them and some black boots, the Brit raise a brow in question as he walked over to the Cuban, who was beaming- proud of his work.

"It shows your figure!" Cuba cheered, sneaking a hand around the other's waist as they left the building, with a few protests and a few punches sent in Cuba's direction.

"So what are we doing today exactly?" The Brit questioned (silently seething), just as he did the day before.

"Well-"

"Cuba!" A voice interrupted the man; they turned to see some Governmental secretary of some sort running towards them both.

England looked up at Cuba in question as the man swore under his breath, before grabbing the Brit's hand and telling the Nation to run. A few corners later they found their selves trying to catch their breath back.

"And we just had to run for our lives, because?" The Brit drawled out eventually.

"Exercise if good for you, you silly Brit…" Cuba managed to huff out while leaning against the wall. "And I may be skipping out on a few important meetings, but I would've missed them anyway!" He stated defensively when he saw the glare the Brit was sending him.

"You shouldn't miss important meetings and WORK for some silly little dates!" The Brit started.

"I _always_ miss those so-called important meetings, so I'm technically not missing them for some silly little dates!" The Cuban called back and added as an afterthought. "I also happen to be enjoying these silly little dates as you call them, though I can tell you obviously don't!"

And turning around he left. The Brit wanted him to work? Fine he'd do his bloody job and leave the Brit to enjoy his last day in Cuba, Cuba free!

Cuba hit his head on his desk his arms stretched forward and groaned loudly. It was a silly and rather small argument, but it still annoyed him. He shouldn't have yelled back like that. He groaned again, it was always fun to know that he couldn't even last in a fake relationship longer than a week… he was going to be alone forever wasn't he?

He shifted so he was slouching back in his chair and looked at England's phone. Well… if his phony relationship was going to end soon, he was going to end it without regrets! Turning the phone on he started browsing through all his stuff.

A few of the Brit's old colonies had phoned since the thing had been off; the said colonies had turned up in a few pictures each one dragging a reluctant England into the picture with them. Though there was a video recording… Cuba curiously opened it.

"_Angleterre_ if you don't smile we will make you!" A loud French voice called, with a few English agreements in the background as the camera zoomed in on the Brit.

"Get lost frog!" The Brit spat back glaring at the phone.

"Iggy!" A whiny American voice howled. "Smile already! You haven't smiled in one picture!"

"You're the ones taking pictures with my phone, I don't want these pictures on it!" the Brit complained, and tried to back out of the screen as Australia came into view taking the Brit's arm and pulling him towards the Camera.

"Come on; mate one picture with me please?" The taller, but younger Nation pouted at the other and you could literally see the Brit's defences fall.

"Not fair Oz!" A platinum blonde haired girl (New Zealand Cuba was pretty sure) pushed Australia out of the shot. "I get first piccy with England!"

"Why don't you get in the shot Canada?" A French voice questioned as America joined the fighting in the background.

"Come on, lad." The Brit sighed, dragging Canada in front of the camera with him, laughing lightly with a smile in place. "Let's appease the masses shall we?"

"_Oui_! That's the spirit _Angleterre_!" France cheered as the video ended.

Cuba sighed turning the thing off, and pocketing it. He felt a little lonely and a bit awful in all honesty… Spain never really cared much for him of the other colonies, they were all just accessories that the man could show off and in return he and the others couldn't wait to be rid of him, and there was England one of the most powerful empires from before still getting along with his colonies… actually trusting his enemy with a pricy phone… but Cuba figured that wasn't what annoyed him the most, no what annoyed him the most was-

A tub of ice-cream landed in front of him and a flushed, frowning Brit looking awkwardly to the side. And Cuba found his self lifting a brow at the others actions.

"An apology…" The Brit managed to ground out, looking everywhere else but Cuba. "Wasn't it you who said ice-cream's the best way?"

"An apology? For what?"

"Ah… Just… taking things too… far… I have enjoyed myself and… overall it has been relaxing to not have to focus on work for a bit… so I'm not saying…" The Brit groaned, he hated having to apologize, it meant he was in the wrong. "That the dates were silly or pathetic… or anything of that sort… just you… should probably be a bit more responsible… don't want a fellow Nation… to fall…"

"Should we share this ice-cream then?" Cuba grinned over at England, purposely not mentioning that the Brit had stated he sort of cared about the Cuban (he didn't want to accidently ruin the apology), who stared back blankly as though wondering what Cuba was going on about. "Well, because I have to say sorry for creating all this mess in the first place and it does take two to argue!"

The Brit shook his head lightly, before agreeing and going off to find two spoons.

Cuba yawned while walking England back to his hotel. The Brit had stayed and offered to help, though Cuba just threw a book at the blonde and told him to keep his self entertained- it was his holiday (he hoped the Brit enjoyed the books with explicit sex scenes throughout), but nonetheless the Brit had seemed to enjoy his self in the end, and Cuba got all his work done in time to treat the blonde to a late meal- which was where they were heading from.

The Cuban Nation wanted to grab hold of the Brit's hand like he had been the whole of England's holiday, but didn't feel right in doing so at that very second. It's like they say, he guessed, two steps forward one step back. But he grinned and walked closer to the blonde this wasn't going to stop his goodbye kisses!

As the hotel came into view he quickly grabbed the blonde's arm and pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist where the vein was working hard underneath. He looked into the green eyes a certain spark to his own brown ones.

"Why… do you do that?" England managed to question, generally curious as to why a different part of his hand had been kissed each day.

"Why what?" Cuba grinned letting his lips ghost lightly to England's knuckled. "Why I kissed you goodbye here first?" He quickly pecked the knuckled, before his lips met the palm of England's hand. "Then here?" And he brought his lips to their latest victim spot before gently putting pressure on the wrist. "And here today?"

England just nodded mutely not quite trusting his voice, but Cuba chuckled lightly.

"But of course England, I'm working my way to my target!" Cuba's fingers replaced his lips as his face moved closer to England's ear and his fingers slowly glided up the pale flesh and he'd whisper a light "then here" every now and then in the blonde's ear (which had started burning a bright red).

His fingers danced along the Brit's flesh, across his shoulders, Cuba lightened his touch as he allowed his fingers to ghost across England's neck, the Brit shivering slightly. His fingers glided across the Brit's jaw bone and shyly danced their way to the edge of the Brit's lips. Cuba pulled back slightly and admired the blonde's flustered face.

"And of course by the end of all this I'll claim my prize right…" his fingers teasingly poked the blonde's lips. "Here, but until then…" He kissed the Brit's wrist again and placed the I-phone into the others hand and walked off, leaving a slightly confused and extremely flushed Brit behind.

Cuba had been slightly annoyed by the fact that he and his family didn't get along as well at England's did, but Cuba figured that wasn't all that annoyed him most… No, what annoyed him more was the fact that the Brit's family had successfully make him enjoy his self and laugh, whereas Cuba had only successfully managed to make the blonde become flustered, which seemed to be a rather easy feat. Cuba wanted to be able to make the Brit laugh like the blonde's family had successfully done, and he wasn't sure if he should feel worried about that or just enjoy his self while he had the chance…

_Choppy chapter is choppy! Well, I have to say sorry for the sort of long wait been very ill! But hey you got drama this chapter! Petty arguments, ice-cream apologies, and a slightly jealous Cuba what wasn't to love…? Ok, so I could've added more detail but in my defence I've been ill and instantly come back to write this for you guys of course it wasn't going to be my most amazing chapter!_

_I promise you more detail and more love next chapter… and probably another choppy chapter, I love writing stories like that but at the same time they annoy me! *Growls* Anyways, as a sorry for it being forever I shall let you know what the next chapter shall be called, it's called: "We need a referee!"_

_Oh, I bet you didn't think they'd be one of them, but it IS a game and games need some sort of referee, but can any of you guess who it'll be? But it's a country that'll be fair on both of them, though probably a little biased but oh well!_

_Anyway I hope you enjoyed the latest instalment! I hope you guys will continue to read and review and most of all enjoy!_


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